


Stretch to Meet Me

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [17]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:46:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 1/28: Too many outside responsibilities at once could have you at odds with a current love partner, Aquarius. Your beloved may seem to be demanding a choice between your job and the relationship. Don't read things into the situation that aren't there, and don't be too proud to talk about it. Pride really can come before a fall. Explain the circumstances in detail and all should be well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> probably same verse as 'trust me'. shougo working long hours at an office job & all the haikise tension that comes with it will never not interest me.
> 
> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.

It's only Wednesday but it feels like Friday what with all the hours Shougo’s worked so far this week. It doesn’t feel like there’s a tremendous lot to do but it keeps on catching up with him and he ends up staying two, three, four hours later than usual just to finish the tasks as they keep piling up. This is the kind of shit no one tells you about getting a white-collar job, or at least no one highlights, the extra unpaid time you’re expected to do in service to your shitty corporate overlords (who you’re supposed to worship and praise for fucking keeping you employed).  
  
Even gambling on streetball for a living might be better than this; at least then he’d have enough energy to stay up late at night and he’d be able to keep his own hours and actually spend some time with Ryouta when they’re both awake, something they can barely do on the weekends because Ryouta’s always got practice or a game or a commercial shoot (because as much as he claims he’s too attached to basketball to do modeling anymore, the extra cash he makes pouting at the camera to promote some shitty all-sugar sports drink always calls him back, and Shougo can’t really begrudge him that. If he were given the opportunity, he’d do the same thing.  
  
Ryouta’s half-asleep with the newspaper folded across his chest and a talk show playing on his laptop when Shougo gets back; he barely stirs when Shougo calls out a greeting. Shougo would call him out for being rude, but he’s too damn tired even to argue with Ryouta, and he’s also really hungry.  
  
“Did you eat yet?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
That’s a no, not that Shougo really would have expected otherwise what with Ryouta’s million crazy fad diets and “forgetting” to eat. He cracks open the fridge; there’s the leftovers he’s saving for tomorrow’s lunch and half a loaf of bread, not much to go on. He’d meant to buy groceries yesterday but had been too lazy to stop on the way back and Ryouta never picks out the right kind of produce. He closes the fridge and rifles through the menu drawer, picking out the Vietnamese place down the street. It’s close enough that they can still do pickup dead tired and avoid a delivery fee, and it’ll be ready quick enough.  
  
Shougo walks back over to the couch, handing the menu to Ryouta, who cracks one eye open. Shougo takes the opportunity to kiss him, but Ryouta doesn’t bother to really kiss back. Is he actually mad at Shougo? He never acts this passive-aggressive unless he really is angry; if he’s willing to let Shougo pick a fight with him just because or he just wants to be contrary he’ll come out and say it. But maybe he’s just tired, too. Arguments about arguments can wait until they’re both in the mood.

* * *

Thursday and Friday don’t let up, and even when Shougo tries to foist his work off on other people it doesn’t work all that well. He remembers to text Ryouta he’ll be late once again on Friday night after having Ryouta freeze him out for forgetting because he’s knee-deep in yet another fucking spreadsheet (at least then he’d brought home food with him, which hadn’t done much to improve Ryouta’s mood). He asks Ryouta if he can pick up groceries, and Ryouta responds with “ok” which is better than nothing but still not good, considering Ryouta.  
  
This is fucking stupid, and Shougo’s not sure what he can or should do about it. Ryouta goes on road trips all the time and, okay, that’s a completely different thing which is one hundred percent unavoidable and built into the schedule. This isn’t. He can’t take Monday off (Ryouta’s going away then, anyway); there’s not much he can do other than spend all Saturday and Sunday with Ryouta, if Ryouta even wants him to. And what he feels like doing, honestly, is catching up on sleep.  
  
When he gets home (at a semi-reasonable hour) the apartment is dark and Ryouta’s out, but the fridge is stocked with enough to make an easy stew (it’ll be better tomorrow, but they can eat it all weekend long and Shougo can use the cooking time to make lunch for next week). He sets to work starting the broth and cutting vegetables, but it would be nice if Ryouta were here to ask him dumb questions about dinner. Then again, dinner might be ready for once by the time he gets home.  
  
The stew is simmering and the rice is done when Ryouta finally does get back, with an energetic greeting this time. But his face is serious when he gets into the kitchen, and Shougo has to consciously tell himself not to cross his arms and act confrontational before this even starts.  
  
“Shougo-kun, we need to talk.”  
  
“I know,” says Shougo.  
  
Ryouta seems to have expected resistance; the tension of his shoulders seems to soften at Shougo’s words. “You’re working a lot.”  
  
“I know,” says Shougo. “I know I didn’t text you or get groceries—”  
  
“Shougo-kun, this isn’t really about that. I mean, it is, but is your job really more important than us? I know you’re busy but you always say the days are long and uneventful and I just.”  
  
“You think I’m blowing you off? You think I’m lying?” It comes out sharp, but he can’t take it back now.  
  
“You brought it up.”  
  
“You implied it.”  
  
Ryouta just stares at him, but instead of looking angry he just looks sad, kind of defeated in a way Shougo hasn’t seen since middle school and it’s not a good look on him, and fuck.  
  
“Ryouta,” says Shougo. “I promise I’ve been working every day. It’s been so fucking shitty and it is boring and there’s no reason it should be taking me this long, and I know I’ve been putting it first and—I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want?”  
  
“No! I don’t want a half-assed apology. I want you, Shougo-kun.”  
  
He’s crossing his arms now and fuck. Shougo wants him, too, and he doesn’t want to work and he doesn’t want this kind of anger permeating their relationship, even when it’s his own damn fault. He wraps Ryouta into his arms, bumps their foreheads together. Ryouta’s arms are still folded and his elbows are digging into Shougo’s arms, but whatever.  
  
“Hey,” says Shougo. “I’ll try better next week.”  
  
“You’d better,” Ryouta mutters into his neck.  
  
And Shougo’s not too into corny declarations of affection, but Ryouta’s worth it.


End file.
